


Project Moo Book

by EaglePursuit



Series: Another Summer's Sunny Days [12]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alien Abduction, Dipcifica, F/M, Gradual Dipcifica, Matchmaker Mabel Pines, Post-Gravity Falls, Returning to Gravity Falls, Short, Teenage Dipper Pines, Teenage Dipper Pines and Mabel Pines, Teenage Mabel Pines, Teenage Pacifica Northwest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:07:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25314301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EaglePursuit/pseuds/EaglePursuit
Summary: Part 12 of Another Summer's Sunny Days. Gravity Falls is flooded with UFO enthusiasts after Toby Determined claims to have been abducted and experimented on by aliens. It's up to Dipper to debunk the story before Agents Powers and Trigger discover Crash Site Omega. Meanwhile Mabel accidentally blabs about her new matchmaking project
Relationships: Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines
Series: Another Summer's Sunny Days [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1792519
Kudos: 16





	Project Moo Book

**Author's Note:**

> Based on: Disney’s Gravity Falls  
> Created by: Alex Hirsch
> 
> Beta readers: my wife & PK2317  
> Art by: KID | @KIDWMA

Project Moo Book

Dipper hunched down next to Mabel and across from Stan in a booth at Greasy’s and stared glumly at the tabletop as the waitress dropped off breakfast menus, a painful reminder that he and Crystal had made plans to eat breakfast there before she unexpectedly left him and the weird little town of Gravity Falls behind a week ago that day. He picked listlessly at some congealed syrup residue that had been dripped onto the rough surface by some previous diner and perfunctorily wiped over with a dirty rag by whomever had bussed the table.

“I don’t get it, Mabel,” Stan complained as he opened his own menu. “If you’re sick of stancakes for breakfast, I coulda made brown meat hash. We didn’t have to come over to Greasy’s and spend money on real food.”

“Oh, Grunkle Stan.” Mabel smiled coyly. “This isn’t for me. It’s for Dipper. He’s feeling down and needs something hot, fresh, and sweet.”

“I guess so.” Stan shrugged, scrutinizing his grand nephew. “The boy’s constantly moping around the Shack. It’s depressing the customers, and that’s bad for business. They spend money when they’re entertained, not reminded of the looming collapse of everything they love.”

“Seriously, guys!?” Dipper grumbled irritably without looking up. “I’m sitting right here!”

“We could have Soos put him on display. Come see ‘The Boy Who Couldn’t Get Over It’!” Stan laughed coarsely. “Oof!” Dipper had kicked his shin under the table.

The waitress came up to take their order as Dipper decided to pointedly ignore their gibes and finally began to examine the menu. Stan gave her a friendly nod. “Hey there, blondie! I’ll have the biscuits and sawmill gravy, with extra sawmill. And a cuppa coffee.”

The waitress nodded in return and jotted down his order.

“I would like the smiley-face chocolate chip pancake with orange juice from the kids’ menu, please— _ Pacifica _ ,” Mabel emphasized the waitress’s name with a huge grin.

Dipper’s head jerked up and he quickly straightened his posture. “Oh hey, Pacifica. I didn’t realize you work. Uh. Work here, I mean!” He began to feel a trickle of sweat on the back of his neck.

She was dressed in a pink button-front dress and a white apron with her hair back in a pony-tail. “I know, right? I had to get a job because Father keeps, like, cutting my allowance when I get in trouble, so I needed spending money.” She paused and smiled mischievously. “But it also drives him crazy to see a Northwest doing, like, real work.”

“Heh. That’s...actually really cool.”

“Oh thanks, Dip.” She smiled at him genuinely.

He felt heat in his face. “Yeah, uh,” he stammered and quickly looked back down at his menu. “I’ll have the ham and cheese omelet with hash browns and a water.”

“I’ll get that right in for you, guys.” Pacifica glanced at Mabel, who winked meaningfully at her, then hurried back to the kitchen to post their ticket and dabbed her forehead with a napkin.

“You see what you miss when you don’t keep in contact with your friends, Dipstick?” Mabel hissed in his ear. “I asked you to send her a text every now and then and you still haven’t done it.”

“I know. I know,” he grumbled as he leaned his elbows onto the table. “I was going to, but I got distracted.”

Stan looked in confusion from Mabel to Dipper, then at Pacifica as she walked into the kitchen. “I have no idea what’s happenin’ here. Is this a scam or somethin’? Cuz I want in.”

The diner’s front door flew open and Toby Determined limped painfully inside. His clothes and hair were disheveled and his glasses askew. He stumbled up to a stool at the counter.

Susan, who was polishing a mug with her dirty apron, approached him. “What happened to you?”

“I had a close encounter with aliens last night.” Toby sounded exhausted as he slumped against the countertop. “And not the fun kind.”

A buzz of alarm rippled through the patrons of the diner.

“Oh come on, Toby,” Stan said dismissively. “You probably had a few too many expired ciders last night and fell asleep in the bus station again.”

The small man turned to face him. “No, it’s true! I’ve got pictures to prove it.”

Stan leaned across the table to Dipper and Mabel and covered his mouth with his hand. “Considering where we found you-know-who, he might be tellin’ the truth.”

Dipper took a deep breath and pushed his emotional issues aside. “We’ll check it out.” He and Mabel slid out of the booth and approached the small, agitated man. They sat on either side of him as Susan poured him a mug of coffee from a carafe.

“So how did it happen?” Mabel asked sympathetically. Pacifica leaned against the counter next to Dipper to listen. He glanced over at her. Other people grew quiet to eavesdrop on the tale.

“I was working late on the printing press at the Gossiper when I saw a flash of light out the window,” Toby began. “There was a flying saucer, low over the street. So I grabbed my camera and ran outside. It was going to be the story that made my career. Not like that stupid Deathball. I got some pictures of it before it landed and a large, tentacled alien came out and picked me up. It did strange experiments on my head, and tattooed my buttocks.” He pulled the back of his pants down a few inches to reveal a strange tattoo on his hindquarters that looked like a symbol of some kind.

The crowd cringed in unison.

Dipper disguised the disgust on his face by wiping his mouth with a napkin. “You said something about pictures, Toby?”

“Here, look!” He pulled out a digital camera and turned on the rear display. He cycled through a few images. Each one showed a blurry, bright oval along one of the edges of the frame.

Dipper patted the disturbed man’s shoulder gently. “They’re...not very conclusive.”

“What about this one?” Toby brought up the next image and held it up for everyone to see. It was a grainy shot of a blob with two glowing eyes and tentacles rising into the air. “Aha!” he exclaimed defiantly as the onlookers gasped

Susan picked up the diner’s phone off the wall cradle and dialed a number. “Marv, you’re not gonna believe the story I just heard…”

Patrons murmured excitedly and lined up to pay their bills. Susan waved to Pacifica and pointed at the cash register. She smiled faintly to Dipper. “Well, back to work.”

* * *

Ford pressed the power button on the TV remote in time for the evening news as he sat in the oversized armchair Mabel on the floor and Dipper sitting on the dinosaur skull that doubled as an end table.

Shandra Jiminez was reporting live from Main Street. The town was packed with cars bearing out of state license plates and people walking around with all manner of alien-themed paraphernalia. They were strange people, who wore aluminum foil hats and crystal pendants and had less than strict consideration for personal hygiene. The kind of people that would organize a massive act of trespassing on a secret government facility using a form of communication heavily monitored by said government. They were extraterrestrial enthusiasts. They flooded into town as soon as Toby’s story hit social media, and inexplicably, they came with money to spend. “Excuse me, sir? Who are you and what brought you here.” Shandra pointed her microphone at a man standing next to her in a brand new alien t-shirt, two sizes too large.

“I’m Chris from Baltimore. I came here because I just want to believe, man,” he said, waving at the camera. “Hi, mom!”

“Very interesting, sir.” She smiled professionally. The camera panned left, excluding the extraterrestrial enthusiast from the TV screen and including Bud Gleeful. “I also have a local business owner here with me.” She held the microphone for him.

“Hi! I renamed my business Alien Automotive, an’ sales have neveh been betteh,” Bud said cheerfully.

Bud was yanked out of the shot and Stan stepped in, snatching the microphone from Shandra’s hand. “I’m Stan, and I’m sellin’ alien t-shirts like hot cakes out of the trunk of my car. This’s great!” Shandra grabbed the microphone back from him as he was shoved from behind.

The camera panned back the other direction as Stan turned to face an angry Bud and took a punch to the eye. “To top it off, Agents Powers and Trigger from the Federal Government are here to investigate the reported abduction,” Shandra walked over to where the two agents were standing off to the side as the camera panned over.

“Don’t worry, Ms. Jiminez. On behalf of the agency we work for, Agent Trigger and I will get to the bottom of this with the efficiency and rectitude we humble civil servants are famous for,” Agent Powers said into the microphone.

Ford turned off the TV and said to Dipper and Mabel, “I’m concerned that this publicity is drawing too much attention to Gravity Falls, running the risk that Crash Site Omega will be discovered.”

“I think Mabel and I should look into Toby’s story.” Dipper leaned against the side of the chair. “Maybe we can find something to disprove it.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Ford mused. “I’d go with you, but I need to lay low while those agents are snooping around. Technically, Stan is still officially me and I do not exist. I’ll keep working on ways to get Fiddleford talking coherently, relatively speaking.”

Stan burst into the room, grinning with a black eye. “Hey, did you guys see me on TV? It’s great, huh? There’s a whole new kind of rube flooding this town, and they’ll buy anything with an alien on it!”

* * *

Dipper and Mabel sneaked down Main Street after sunset, ducking from shadow to shadow and avoiding the bright street lights until they arrived at the door to the office of the Gravity Falls Gossiper.

Mabel crouched down in front of the door and pulled a bobby pin from her hair. She worked it into the lock and began deftly turning tumblers within.

“Did Grunkle Stan teach you how to do this?” Dipper whispered.

“Of course, silly. He said a girl needs skills to survive in this economy. Whatever that means,” Mabel whispered back. The last tumbler turned and Mabel pushed the door open with a low squeak. They crept inside and turned on their phone lights.

“Let’s check Toby’s desk.” They crossed the room; Dipper looked through the drawers while Mabel read the papers stacked on top and pinned to the wall behind it.

“Nothing!” she declared, glancing around for more snooping opportunities.

“I didn’t find anything either, except this blonde wig and pantyhose.” Dipper pulled them out of the bottom drawer and held them up.

“Toby must use them as an undercover disguise.” She pointed to a closed door at the back of the office. The sign read ‘Employees Only’. “Hey, what’s in that door over there?” 

“I think it’s the printing room,” said Dipper, examining ink smudges on the door knob. “We’ve never been in there.” He opened the door and the two went in.

The room was large with bare brick walls and exposed wooden rafters. A large mechanical printing press filled the middle of the space. The far wall had a pair of windows and the building’s rear exit. Pallets of bulk paper and large, steel drums lined the left and right walls.

Dipper approached the machine and pulled a printed page from the discharge tray. “It’s this week’s edition.” He read the headline aloud, “‘Local Hero Makes First Contact With Extraterrestrials On Behalp Of Humanity’. Geeze Toby, don’t undersell yourself.”

Mabel walked over to the barrels and unscrewed the cap from one of them. She peeked inside. “Whew! This stuff stinks.” —She coughed— “Heh heh, whoa. It’s actually making me kind of lightheaded.” She started giggling.

“Mabel, are you okay!?” Dipper asked in alarm.

Mabel was waving at the blank brick wall. “Yesh, Dippy-di-doo. I’m jusht shaying haloo to da kittehs on da wall. Haloo kittehs.”

The faint sound of crunching gravel pricked Dipper’s ears. “Shhh. Did you hear something? I think it’s coming from outside.” He screwed the cap back on the ink drum, then walked to the back door and put his ear up against it. There was a scratching sound coming from the deadbolt.

“Trigger, did you fail Extra-judicial Investigative Measures 101 at the academy?” a familiar voice outside asked.

“I would have had this by now if you’d stop staring at me. You know I can’t perform when I’m being watched,” complained another voice Dipper recognized.

Dipper backed away from the door and grabbed Mabel, who was pushing buttons on the press and giggling, by the wrist then pulled her into the front office. “We need to get out of here,” he whispered. 

There was a crash from the back of the building and Trigger apologizing abrasively, “I’m sorry, Powers. I just get frustrated sometimes. Stop being so critical, okay?

“Darn it,” Dipper cursed. “We can’t go through the front door now. They’ll hear it squeaking.” He opened one of the front windows instead. “Mabel, look!” he pointed out the window. “There’s a pony outside.”

Mabel leaned out the window. “I don’t shee a pony, Dipupper.” Dipper roughly pushed her the rest of the way through, and she collapsed, giggling on the sidewalk.

Dipper climbed out the window himself and carefully closed it. He helped Mabel walk over to a bench in front of the tavern next door. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m great, Diaper. Did you know I’m an expert matchmaker?” she asked him woozily.

“I think you may have mentioned it.” He went back and peeked into the Gossiper office to see what the other intruders were doing.

“I’m gonna help Pacifica get the man of her dreams,” Mabel sputtered.

Dipper came back and helped her to her feet. “That’s great. Send me a wedding invitation...Hey, wait. What’s that hissing sound?” He let her back down on the bench and started crawling around on the ground.

“Oh don’t worry, brother,” Mabel slurred. “There’s gonna be an invitation with your name on it. Your name’s gonna be on  _ all _ the invitations.”

Dipper stopped at a jagged pothole in the middle of the street, “Ugh. Rotten eggs. I think there’s a broken gas main beneath the pavement.” He came back to Mabel on the bench. “Alright, let’s stand up now. Lean on me. We’re going to go for a walk.” He slung her arm over his shoulder and assisted her down the sidewalk.

“I’m gonna be da maid of honor,” she giggled.

“You’ve really got this all planned out.” Dipper gritted his teeth as his unruly sister wobbled away from him and he pulled her back. 

“I’ve been doing a lot of planning lately,” Mabel replied groggily, grinning.

They walked past a twenty-four hour tattoo parlor when Dipper noticed something on the wall inside. “Hold on a sec, sis.” He guided Mabel through the door and found the tattoo artist, who was working on someone’s new back tattoo. He pointed to a symbol on the wall. “Hey, what’s that one mean?” 

The tattoo artist startled, his electric needle buzzing erratically across the customer’s back. “Hey don’t scare me when I’m working, kid.” 

The burly-looking customer agreed, “Yeah, don’t scare him.”

“Sorry. Sorry,” apologized Dipper. “But what is that symbol?” He pointed to the picture again.

“It’s a stylized Japanese Kanji. It means ‘bathroom in rear’. We don’t normally sell it as a tattoo. It’s really just a decoration for the shop,” the artist explained.

“ _ Did _ someone get it as a tattoo recently?” Dipper asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, now that you mention it. Last night this scrawny fella came in. He was riding a cow and acting really weird. He insisted on having it on his butt; didn’t even flinch,” the artist recalled.

“Wow, thanks! Strangely, that was actually helpful,” Dipper said as he excused Mabel and himself from the tattoo parlor.

“Ugh, I don’t feel so good,” Mabel groaned as Dipper helped her walk.

“Yeah, I bet. You got a nose full of the fumes from Toby’s printing ink and started hallucinating weird things about kitties and Pacifica getting married,” he laughed.

“Haha! Wow, I don’t remember that at all. Blap!” she said, then gagged as her stomach lurched.

“Well, I think I’ve got this whole thing figured out now. It’ll be a dark day when someone passes one over on my cunning intellect.” Dipper tapped the side of his head for emphasis. “Anyway, let’s get you home before you barf up your dinner on the sidewalk.”

* * *

A crowd was gathered on Main Street in front of the Gravity Falls Museum of History. A podium with a lectern had been erected on the steps of the museum, upon which stood Mayor Tyler Cutebiker, Toby Determined, and agents Powers and Trigger.

Dipper and Mabel pushed their way to the front of the crowd just as Mayor Cutebiker introduced Agent Powers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, residents of the fair town of Gravity Falls and visitors from across this great nation, Agent Trigger and I have exhaustively investigated the recent case involving Mr. Determined’s story.” Agent Powers paused for effect. “And we are forced to conclude that there is no evidence to refute Mr. Determined’s abduction claims. In our experience, it is entirely possible Mr. Determined  _ may _ have had contact with an extraterrestrial lifeform. Are there any questions?”

The crowd gasped and murmured.

“I have a question!” Dipper stepped forward and raised his hand. “Did you take into account that the printing ink Toby Determined uses in his printing press gives off fumes that cause hallucinations?”

“It’s true!” Mabel yelled in support. “I saw kitties on the walls!”

“Our report will be made available to the public,” Agent Powers replied. “Next question, please.”

Dipper raised his hand again. “Are you aware that there is a leaking gas main in the middle of the street outside the Gossiper front office?”

“That’s a problem you should bring up with your local municipal leaders. I fail to see what that has to do with our investigation,” Powers retorted stoically, Mayor Cutebiker shifting nervously behind him.

“Soos, if you could demonstrate, please.” Dipper waved to the Mystery Shack proprietor who was parked nearby in his pickup. Soos started to drive down Main Street towards the Gossiper’s office, dragging a steel filing cabinet behind his truck. The filing cabinet began shooting off sparks as the truck picked up speed. When Soos’s truck passed in front of the Gossiper’s office, it ignited a bright fireball that threw the filing cabinet into the air. The crowd murmured in surprise. “That,” —Dipper pointed— “was the bright flash of light Toby Determined saw. Someone with hot brakes or a low-hanging muffler could have set it off.”

Powers rolled his eyes. “Fine, how do you explain the rest of it, kid?” 

“The ‘UFO’ that Toby took pictures of was actually the large, round street lamp outside his office. The ‘alien’ in Toby’s pictures is actually Octavia, a local petting zoo escapee. And his tattoo is a Japanese Kanji that means ‘bathroom in rear’. He got it at the twenty-four hour tattoo parlor down the street on the night in question. You can ask the guy who works there during night shift. He tattooed Toby and saw him riding a cow. That’s why he woke up in a field outside of town. Octavia probably dumped him there.”

Agent Powers conversed privately with Agent Trigger for a moment before returning to the lectern. “After these new revelations, we have reversed our previous conclusion. There was absolutely no contact with extraterrestrials.”

Toby jumped off the podium and ran away crying as Mayor Cutebiker and the agents left, engaged in an animated discussion. 

A convulsion of anger began to ripple through the crowd as they became agitated. A man in one of Stan’s alien t-shirts ran up the steps of the museum and shouted, “Hey, let’s go back to Roswell!” The crowd shouted in agreement and began to rapidly disperse. Tires squealed as cars drove away and Gravity Falls began returning to normal, or what passed for it.

Dipper turned to Mabel. “Once again we stood up for the truth and saved the town.”

“Did we?” she asked and gestured around them. They were the only people left on Main Street except Stan, who had pulled up in the Stanleymobile and was abandoning a trunkload of unsold alien t-shirts next to a public garbage can.

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Be sure to read the next adventure:

Reservoir Dawgs


End file.
